These past couple of days, Han Hong's video kept popping up in my feed. Honestly, I watched it three times. At first I didn't think much of it. It was only after reading the comments that it clicked: people weren't really angry at what she said—they were angry at the sense of entitlement behind it.

The whole thing isn't complicated. Feng Xiaogang's new film Catching a Spy came out, Han Hong showed up to support it, and she said to the Beijing audience: We've got more than 20 million people in Beijing—brothers and sisters, guys and gals—can you give us some face? Just get the first wave of box office going, and we'll be all set.

"Zou ge mian'er" is a northern expression. It means doing someone a favor for the sake of face, showing up to support them. Said at the dinner table or between neighbors, there's nothing wrong with it at all—it even feels pretty warm, right?

But when it's applied to box office, it turns sour.

I think I can roughly sum up what people were angry about. First, going to the movies is a consumer choice; quality should do the talking, not emotional obligation. Second, ordinary people and celebrities were never on the same spending level. You want me to spend an extra movie ticket's worth of money just to give you face, but I haven't even finished paying off this month's Huabei yet. Third, the film's box office was already below expectations, so this sounded less like promotion and more like pleading on the movie's behalf. Between pleading for help and promoting, there's a whole question of dignity separating the two.

That reasoning is sound. I'm not denying it.

But as I kept scrolling, I suddenly felt a little tired—not tired for Han Hong, but tired of this atmosphere.

When I think of Han Hong, my impression is that she's always been known for charity work. I heard about it at least when I was a kid; back then her name was practically synonymous with doing charity. After all these years, a person who speaks bluntly, loves to organize things, and genuinely shells out her own money gets dug up and analyzed word by word over one folksy bit of courtesy, and I honestly think it's a bit absurd.

Some people nowadays are so small-minded it's almost frightening. They can blow anything up into a huge deal. A single sentence can be read three ways, and each reading has to be paired with a long image and a rousing caption. Just watching it, I feel exhausted by all this earnestness.

I wonder what this would've been like ten years ago. At most it would've been after-dinner chatter. Everyone would laugh and say, "She really doesn't mince words," and then get on with their lives. Now? One sentence gets broken down into three criticisms, each well-reasoned and each occupying the moral high ground. After reading it all, I feel like I wasn't just watching the drama—I was attending a debate competition, one I never signed up for.

This is what's been disappointing me about the internet lately. It's not that everyone's criticism is unreasonable; it's that the intensity of the nitpicking is completely out of proportion to the weight of the matter itself. A polite phrase in dialect gets prosecuted word by word, and after the prosecution comes the sentencing, and after the sentencing comes a parade through the streets.

I can't quite remember what the internet used to be like. After all, the brain is like a memory card—files get lost over time. But from what I remember, people seemed a bit more relaxed. When they saw something they didn't like, they'd say a couple of things and then turn the page. Now, when they see something they don't like, they have to argue it, categorize it, summarize three charges, then screenshot it, then add, "Someone should look into this."

I'm not saying the old days were so pure. The internet has never been pure. Since the BBS era there've been piles of flame wars, piles of paid shills, piles of inexplicable battles. But at least the flame wars back then were genuine. A lot of the criticism now feels performative to me, as if not posting a sharp take would make you look small-minded, make you look like you lack independent thought. So everyone starts competing over who's angrier, whose wording is sharper, who's standing higher.

A middle-aged woman says one everyday line onstage, and what she gets in return is a massive public execution. Watching it, I feel embarrassed for her—and embarrassed for us too.

The term "internet spirit" feels very romantic to me: open, shared, free, equal. Hearing it now, it feels more like a discontinued old brand. The packaging is still on the shelf, but what's inside was swapped out a long time ago.

I'm not trying to lecture anyone, and I can't be bothered to. I'm just feeling a little nostalgic—nostalgic for the days when if a sentence was funny, it was just funny; if it was absurd, it was just absurd. No need to elevate everything to some higher level.

Some things can be laughed off and left behind. If you insist on digging three feet deep, you're the one who ends up tired.